Above Sea, Below Sea Final Account of a Navy Dog
by Fekter Av Flammer
Summary: Many a year had he sailed the deep blue...and yet, now he realizes that while he sailed upon the big blue, he was also under another. He smiled to himself at the clever coincidental relationships between them, before looking back up at the sky.


All know the sky, it is an omnipresent blue shroud that unceasingly looks down upon us. But who among us KNOW it? Who have met it, soared through it, felt it? Who have seen it for what it truly is? Alas, this Naval Captain has not. He stands alone on the officer's deck; there are no ships nearby; no rescue crews or vessels to give his final regards to. All of the rest of the crew have evacuated in the lifeboats; they did not come to fetch the captain away, for they knew he would never leave his vessel. The lifeboats, manned by solemn and stoic oar-wielding men of great and brave character (a crew that any captain would be proud to command), pull away by pairs from the sides of the vessels; they are not in the Naval Captain's line of sight; no gallant and loyal crew to which to give a dignified and honorable farewell. The Naval Captain is alone. He sighs to himself and stirs his cup of tea; he had hoped that fate would work in the favor of allowing him to make his end just a tad more memorable. he looks up to see a cloudless and beautiful blue sky above him. Many a year had he sailed the deep blue...and yet, now he realizes that while he sailed upon the big blue, he was also under another. He smiled to himself at the clever coincidental relationships between them, before looking back up at the sky. Nearly all of his life, from his early days as a scrawny Frigate engine mechanic to his rise to the rank of Captain and assignment to a beautiful and deadly Arleigh Burke class Destroyer, the USS Lancelot, he has called the sea nothing less than his home. He has sailed it, explored it, swum in it, dove down deep to discover its mysteries, and has come to feel like he knows it like he knows his own name; not the back of his hand; that is too cliché, and less indicative of his intended expression of his knowledge. Now, above him, stands another ocean - one that for all of his life he has seen, but at the same time not seen. As he feels the unmistakable icy-cold sensation of water lapping at his heels, he imagines what it would have been like if he had lived to see this new ocean. Helicopters, airplanes, even hot-air balloons! The Captain feels a pang of regret; he and Rear Admiral Watkins, an old friend and fellow Navy dog from the roaring young days, had rudely and incessantly scoffed and near downright mocked USAF Major Randolph when he had joined them for their weekly game of bridge not two days before, while the fleet was stationed at the Elmendorf Air Force Base outside of Anchorage. Now the Captain understands the meaning behind the Major's words: "You old ducks may be the ones floating around in the big pond and wiggling your tailfeathers, but there's more than one sea to swim in."

The Naval Captain shudders and takes another sip of his hot tea; the needle-piercing embrace of the frigid sea is now halfway up his shins. An amused grin is evident on his face; irony. He has no family, he is all alone; and all these years he had considered nothing but the sea to be his home. Now he is bringing a whole new meaning to the phrase "Going Home."

"Dvořák would crawl out of his grave and slap me silly if I compared this to his piece out loud," The Naval Captain chuckles to himself. "Though, in retrospect, the Largo in movement two isn't all that bad a piece to sink to."

The Naval Captain looks up at the sky once more; a clear blue sky with the sun shining, not a single cloud in the sky. 'And what are the odds, being in the Arctic and all,' he thought to himself dryly.

He then raises his right arm and swiftly snaps it into an angle with this chest, his hand set in a perfect diagonal alignment to the hairline; a perfect salute, directed at the blue sheet above him. The sky and the ocean were no longer distinct to him; they are now one and the same vast and wondrous vessel of mystery. He directs his salute towards his new friend, the blue heavens above, silently wishing to himself that he could have had a chance to meet that friend one day...before the broken crystals that are the surface of the water become as smooth panes of glass...and the Naval Captain has gone home.

Did this in my free time one day. Looking forward to reviews.


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